clothes. Abilene stepped down onto the ledge and hopped off it. The water felt like a hot bath. Too hot for a day like this. While she picked up the bundles, Helen and Finley climbed in.
Vivian, still laughing, unbuttoned the front of her sundress, pulled it down and stepped out of it, being careful not to let it touch the granite under her feet.
‘You’re coming in after all?’ Cora asked.
‘No risk, no fun.’
‘Atta girl.’
She clamped the dress against her side to keep it from falling, and had a tricky time removing her bra. Would’ve been a lot trickier, Abilene thought, except the flimsy red garment opened in front.
Grinning, they all watched the spectacle of Vivian hopping and teetering as she struggled to take off her shoes, socks and panties with one hand. Done, she allowed the shoes and socks to rest on the granite while she made a roll of her dress and underwear.
She entered the pool, then picked up the sock-stuffed shoes with her free hand. She held the shoes and bundled dress overhead.
‘Now don’t you dare let them touch,’ Abilene warned.
‘Yeah,’ Finley said. ‘Those shoes’ll make mincemeat of your dress.’
Cora looked around as if to make sure nothing had been left behind. Then she turned toward the archway. ‘Want to go first?’ she asked Helen.
‘Oh, that’s okay.’
Cora started forward, Vivian close behind her. Helen went after Vivian. Abilene, following her, glanced back. The camera rested on Finley’s shoulder. Its tiny red light was off, so she wasn’t taping.
‘Move it along, Hickok,’ she said with a grin.
Abilene turned away.
Cora, the small bundle of clothes perched atop her head and held steady with one hand, waded into the darkness of the lodge.
‘Native bearers,’ Finley said, ‘following the Great White Hunter through unmapped regions of darkest Vermont.’
‘Oomgowah,’ Abilene said.
‘Watch out for water snakes and crocodiles, ladies.’
‘Very funny,’ Helen said.
‘There might be snakes,’ Abilene said.
‘And piranha,’ Finley added. ‘I think I feel a nibble now.’
The talk, though all in good fun, made Abilene uncomfortably aware of being naked in strange waters. With both hands busy holding the bundles overhead, she felt totally vulnerable. She half expected something squirmy to slide against her. As she followed Helen under the archway, she pressed her thighs together and clenched her buttocks and walked with short steps as if her knees were bound together.
Nobody’s yelling , she told herself. Everything’s probably fine .
But they aren’t talking, either, she realized. All she could hear from inside the lodge was the soft sloshing of water.
Then she was through the archway.
Cora, Vivian and Helen had spread out. They were wandering about in chest-high water, turning slowly, their heads swiveling and lifting. They looked like a trio of bizarre tourists gaping at a wonder.
Abilene waded forward. She heard Finley moving behind her. Then came the quiet hum of the camera. It sounded very loud in the stillness. But nobody looked around. Nobody objected.
Abilene began wandering about, moving generally toward the pool’s far side as she turned and surveyed the place.
It reminded her strongly of indoor swimming pools she’d known in Illinois - at the Y, at the high school - before moving to California after her sophomore year. It had the same dank air, the same acoustics that intensified every sound so that even the soft lapping of the water seemed to echo.
But the pools she’d known had been twice the size of this one. They had never been hot. And they hadn’t smelled like this. Instead of a chlorine odor, the air here smelled heavy with sulfur.
She supposed the smell might
Vivian, still laughing, unbuttoned the front of her sundress, pulled it down and stepped out of it, being careful not to let it touch the granite under her feet.
‘You’re coming in after all?’ Cora asked.
‘No risk, no fun.’
‘Atta girl.’
She clamped the dress against her side to keep it from falling, and had a tricky time removing her bra. Would’ve been a lot trickier, Abilene thought, except the flimsy red garment opened in front.
Grinning, they all watched the spectacle of Vivian hopping and teetering as she struggled to take off her shoes, socks and panties with one hand. Done, she allowed the shoes and socks to rest on the granite while she made a roll of her dress and underwear.
She entered the pool, then picked up the sock-stuffed shoes with her free hand. She held the shoes and bundled dress overhead.
‘Now don’t you dare let them touch,’ Abilene warned.
‘Yeah,’ Finley said. ‘Those shoes’ll make mincemeat of your dress.’
Cora looked around as if to make sure nothing had been left behind. Then she turned toward the archway. ‘Want to go first?’ she asked Helen.
‘Oh, that’s okay.’
Cora started forward, Vivian close behind her. Helen went after Vivian. Abilene, following her, glanced back. The camera rested on Finley’s shoulder. Its tiny red light was off, so she wasn’t taping.
‘Move it along, Hickok,’ she said with a grin.
Abilene turned away.
Cora, the small bundle of clothes perched atop her head and held steady with one hand, waded into the darkness of the lodge.
‘Native bearers,’ Finley said, ‘following the Great White Hunter through unmapped regions of darkest Vermont.’
‘Oomgowah,’ Abilene said.
‘Watch out for water snakes and crocodiles, ladies.’
‘Very funny,’ Helen said.
‘There might be snakes,’ Abilene said.
‘And piranha,’ Finley added. ‘I think I feel a nibble now.’
The talk, though all in good fun, made Abilene uncomfortably aware of being naked in strange waters. With both hands busy holding the bundles overhead, she felt totally vulnerable. She half expected something squirmy to slide against her. As she followed Helen under the archway, she pressed her thighs together and clenched her buttocks and walked with short steps as if her knees were bound together.
Nobody’s yelling , she told herself. Everything’s probably fine .
But they aren’t talking, either, she realized. All she could hear from inside the lodge was the soft sloshing of water.
Then she was through the archway.
Cora, Vivian and Helen had spread out. They were wandering about in chest-high water, turning slowly, their heads swiveling and lifting. They looked like a trio of bizarre tourists gaping at a wonder.
Abilene waded forward. She heard Finley moving behind her. Then came the quiet hum of the camera. It sounded very loud in the stillness. But nobody looked around. Nobody objected.
Abilene began wandering about, moving generally toward the pool’s far side as she turned and surveyed the place.
It reminded her strongly of indoor swimming pools she’d known in Illinois - at the Y, at the high school - before moving to California after her sophomore year. It had the same dank air, the same acoustics that intensified every sound so that even the soft lapping of the water seemed to echo.
But the pools she’d known had been twice the size of this one. They had never been hot. And they hadn’t smelled like this. Instead of a chlorine odor, the air here smelled heavy with sulfur.
She supposed the smell might
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